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Divorced and Deadly
Divorced and Deadly
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Divorced and Deadly

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All the way to the bus stop he asked questions, ‘Where’s your car?’

‘It went in for a service and they’ve discovered it needs new brake pads. Hopefully, I should have it back tomorrow.’

‘Ah, well, if you ask me, it’s all a con.’

‘Is that so?’ If he doesn’t clear off soon, I swear I’d smack him one! Either that or I’d tell my mum and she’d give him what for.

‘Think about it.’ Like a dog with a bone, he is. ‘You’ve never noticed anything wrong with your brakes at all, have you?’

‘Not that I can remember, no.’

What the hell was I talking to him for? It only encouraged him.

‘There you are then!’

‘Where am I exactly?’

‘Well, like I say…you’ve been conned. There’s nothing wrong with your brakes at all.’

‘Isn’t there?’

‘No. You see, what they’ll do is whip ’em off. One of the blokes will have ’em away, and before you know it, there they are…’

‘Where are they?’ Talk about being a glutton for punishment.

‘On the stall at a car-boot sale o’ course!’

‘Really?’ No wonder he’s called Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants.

His tongue was still rattling ten to the dozen when the bus arrived. Pushing me aside, he climbed on, while I pretended to tie my shoe. When the bus pulled away Dickie started waving and yelling and telling them to stop because they’d left me behind. (Thick as a plank or what!)

The conductor was in no mood for his antics. I expect he was wondering why I was smiling after being left behind. Good man, that conductor! The thing is, I’d rather be late than sit next to Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants all the way to work.

After I’d thrown what was left of my little-boy’s lunch, I started to wonder…what was going to happen to me now? How will I get over Laura, especially as Shelley won’t have anything to do with me after all the goings on.

And how long will I have to stay at my parents’ house?

A long time I reckon, because Laura fleeced me good and proper, my Ford Focus is about to give up the ghost, and all I’ve got is a fiver in my back pocket and exactly four pounds and sixty pence in my bank account.

Still, I’ve got my magnetic looks, and I still know how to make a lady feel good.

Then I noticed a woman looking at me. She was tall and blonde with legs all the way up to her chin.

Now she’s started walking towards me! Keep calm, Ben. Play it cool…cool now. I said, ‘Hello…yes, did you want something?’ Realising I sounded like Dickie Manse, I gave her my best, whitest smile.

‘Look…’ she pointed downwards.

I looked down and saw nothing untoward, except a slight stirring.

‘Hope you don’t mind me saying…I just thought I’d tell you that your shoelaces were undone.’ She walked straight into the open arms of a man who was running up to meet her. She gave me this bemused little smile as he walked her away.

I could hear the pair of them sniggering all the way down the street. Not that I cared a toss. I didn’t fancy her anyway.

I’ve decided to look on the positive side.

What’s the worst that can happen? I mean, I can handle Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants, a sniggering blonde, a bad divorce, stolen brake pads, clean underpants and a bottle of Lucozade to ‘keep my pecker up’.

It’ll take more than that to bring Ben Buskin to his knees.

I was determined to come out on top. Yes! Just you see if I don’t.

BEDFORD OCTOBER, THURSDAY (#ulink_c1eda98a-21c4-5ed2-9756-35e7a6d2d508)

Hello diary, my old friend.

Well, like I’ve always said, you never know what’s round the corner. I had a couple of surprises today; both involving women of course. One was a bit unnerving, and the other positively amazing. I still don’t quite know what to make of it all.

I reckon I must have done something very wrong in a previous life, or I wouldn’t be punished the way I’m being punished now.

I arrived at the station at nine a.m., right on time. Most times the damned train is late, and other times I find myself stranded on some scary platform in the middle of nowhere! Anyway, not this time; although the train driver must have had an argument with his wife, because he was whizzing over the rails like a demented hooligan.

‘I think I’m about to be sick, dear!’ The fat woman sitting next to me had already fallen asleep on my shoulder, but it wasn’t her fault, as she had a droopy neck; or so she told me when I shook her awake.

‘You’d best sit up,’ I told her encouragingly, ‘…I’ll see if I can find the conductor.’ The last thing I wanted was to turn up for work with a jacket coated in the remains of her breakfast!

‘Give her a sick bag!’ The conductor was none too pleased, and neither was I.

‘Give her one yourself!’ I mean…you can’t let the buggers get away with it, can you?

Anyway, to cut a long story short, she got her sick bag, and I got as far away from her as I could; though she kept looking at me with a peculiar glint in her eye. ‘Sorry dear,’ I wanted to say, ‘but I’m not that desperate.’ At least, not yet! How dare she?

What’s more, a muscled-up weirdo with a crew-cut on the next seat kept eyeing me up. I nearly asked her what her game was!

Thank God I got to my station unmolested…life is a terrifying lottery, don’t you think?

The van was waiting to collect me as I came out of the station. ‘Good morning, Ben, how was your journey today?’ Dressed in a long, white overall and smelling of dog-chuckles, Poppy is a real sweetie; though you wouldn’t want to kiss her after she’s been canoodling with the canines.

Feeling sorry for myself, I climbed in. ‘It’s been one of them journeys from hell,’ I moaned. ‘The train driver was hell bent on breaking every speed limit in the book, and some woman was threatening to spew up all over me.’ I gave her all the gory details, ‘And would you believe the conductor had a go at me when I refused to take her the sick bag!’

‘Really? And what did you say to that?’ she asked. Poppy can be such a trial at times.

‘What do you think I said? I calmly reminded him that I was a mere passenger, and that it was his duty to “give her one”!’

Poppy started laughing. Honestly! Is it me, or has the whole world gone completely mad?

As we drove along, I took a sneaky look at her. Some people say Poppy is quite pretty, but I can’t quite make up my mind. I suppose with her wild, curly hair and those long, blonde lashes over sapphire-blue eyes, there might be something cute about her.

But then, who am I to say? She’s so preoccupied with her dungarees and other people’s animals; I can’t imagine her being dressed to kill, or rolling about in bed playing catch me if you can with another human being. And she would never flaunt herself naked in a see-through negligee…or would she? I’d better watch out. There I go again with the daydreams!

‘What are you staring at?’ Poppy asked.

‘What d’you mean? I wasn’t staring at you!’ I can sound really wounded when I put my mind to it.

‘Well it certainly felt like it!’ She flew the car round the bend at a hundred miles an hour.

Leave her alone, Ben, I told myself, before she kills the pair of us.

‘I’ve already said…I was not staring at you!’ I reacted with a cutting remark.

‘No need to be catty.’ She seemed hurt.

‘What do you mean…catty?’ I said. ‘I’m a man for heavens’ sake. I couldn’t be catty if I tried. The trouble is that’s all you’ve got on your mind…cats and dogs, and things that cock their leg over…other things.’

‘What other things?’ Poppy wanted to know.

‘I dunno…plant pots, trees, and things like that.’

‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’ Poppy obviously didn’t think so!

‘Leave me alone, I’ve had a bad enough morning already!’ I was not in a pleasant frame of mind.

‘Oh what! You mean you forgot to feed your Mum’s goldfish?’

She was giving me that kind of grin she gives the animals when they want feeding, I half expected a meatychew thrust into my mouth, thank you very much!

‘You know what’s wrong with you, Ben?’ Poppy went on.

‘No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.’ Why did I say that?

‘You need to chill out.’ Poppy said.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I put on my most outraged voice.

Putting the fear of God into me, she screeched the van to a halt in the middle of the street, ‘You listen to me…’ Yanking on the hand-brake she swung round and looked me in the eye, ‘You’re on edge all the time; it’s not good for you. People have heart attacks and everything, being on edge like that.’

‘I can’t help it. I’ve got a lot to contend with.’ My mum was right. I really can be sulky at times.

‘You might be surprised to know this, but you are not the only one!’ Poppy complained.

‘What?’ I didn’t know what she was on about.

‘I said, you are not the only one who has a lot to contend with.’ She was really ranting!

‘Is that so?’ Now I was fed up.

‘What about me?’ Poppy went on.

‘I don’t know. What about you?’ I really hadn’t a clue.

‘You know…’ Poppy said mournfully, ‘…my favourite dog passed away last week, and you never once said you were sorry.’

‘That’s because I wasn’t.’ It’s true! ‘That dog was not even yours. What’s more, he was mad as a march hare…eight times last week it escaped and I was the one who had to catch it and bring it back…plus I got bitten twice for my trouble and had to have a jab.’ I couldn’t believe we were arguing about a mad dog!

‘Don’t be soft! A jab won’t hurt you, will it? And besides, you were the only one available to go after the poor thing. Everyone else was busy hosing out the kennels after that bug epidemic.’ Poppy could be really verbal!

‘All right, but losing one dog in the universe does not give you as much to contend with as I have.’ I had to assert myself.

‘Oh no? Well, what about my mother?’ Poppy gave me a look.

‘What about her…and don’t you think we’d best get going or we’ll be late. Don’t forget the accountant is due in today.’ And guess who had to deal with him—yours truly!

‘I haven’t forgotten.’ Poppy sounded smug.

‘Let’s get going then.’ The morning was definitely not getting any better!

She didn’t get going until the driver in the car behind rammed his fist on his horn, and then a milk float and a bread van drew up behind us and soon there was a whole mob of vehicles all lined up and baying for blood.

And even after we drove away, she had no intention of letting me off the hook.

‘I’ll have you know, my mother is the mother from hell!’ Poppy complained.

‘Really? In what way?’ I didn’t particularly want to pursue the conversation, but I couldn’t believe her mother was worse than mine.

‘She vets all my boyfriends.’ Poppy said.

‘I didn’t know you had any boyfriends.’ I almost laughed.

I got the evil eye, ‘And why shouldn’t I have boyfriends. Am I ugly? Tell me the truth; do you think I’m ugly? You do, don’t you…think I’m ugly?’ Her voice was suspiciously shaky.

‘I never said that.’ Honest!

‘But you meant that,’ she sniffed.

‘I didn’t.’ What else could I say?

‘Liar!’ Poppy was almost in tears.

When we arrived at the kennel gates I couldn’t get out of the van quick enough to open them. ‘It’s all right,’ I called as she prepared to stop and collect me again, ‘I’ll walk up…clear my head.’

‘Please yourself!’ With the same death wish as the train driver, she slammed her foot down on the accelerator and shot off up the lane, sending showers of gravel behind her.

‘DAMNED LUNATIC! YOU COULD HAVE BLINDED ME!’ I yelled.

She didn’t hear me. Well, I knew that, or I wouldn’t have shouted, would I? I mean…I’m not harbouring a death wish, well, at least not yet.

Oh yes, and what were the ‘surprises’ you might ask.

Well, as you might have guessed, I manage a kennel for some rich guy who has a string of them all over the UK. He has a big white house on a cliff-top in Spain, a grand mansion in Milton Keynes and a boat in Newquay. Huh! alright for some!